Selected quad for the lemma: death_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
death_n	woe_n	world_n	worth_n	36	3	9.1146	4	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A18722	Churchyards challenge	Churchyard, Thomas, 1520?-1604.	1593 (1593)	STC 5220; ESTC S104961	155,134	297

beggar soone is spied When weake Shores wife had lost her staffe of stay The halt and blind went limping lame away The poore is pincht and pointed at in deed As baited bull were leading to a stake Wealth findes great helpe want gets no friend at néede A plaged wight a booteles mone may make A naked soule in street for colde may quake But colde or hot when mischiefes comes a roe As falles the lot the backe beares of the bloe Prefarment past the world will soone forget The present time is daily gazd vpon Yf merchant rich from wealth doe fall in debt Small count is made of his good fortune gon We feede on flesh and fling away the bone Embrace the best and set the worst aside Because faire flowers are made of in their pride You yonglings nowe that vaine delights leads on To sell chast life for lewd and light desires Poore gaine is gote when rich good name is gon Foule blot and shame liues vnder trimme attires World soone casts off the hackney horse it hiers And when bare nagge is ridden out of breath Tibbe is turnd lose to feed on barren heath Of flowers a while men doe gay poses make The sent once past a due dry withered leaues Loue lasts not long prickt vp for pleasures sake Straw little worth when corne forsaks the sheaues A painted post the gazars eie deceiues But when foule fauts are found that bleard the sight The account is gon of girlls or gugawes light Young pooppies play small season lasts you sée Old appish sportes are quickly out of grace Fond wanton games will soone forgotten be As sowre as crabbe becomes the sweetest face There needes no more be spoken of this case All earthly ioyes by tract of time decayes Soone is the glase runne out of our good dayes My fall and facte makes proofe of that is spoke Tels world to much of shadowes in the sunne Dust blowne with winde or simple proofe of smoake That flies from fire and fast throwe aire doth run It ends with woe that was with ioy begun It turnes to teares that first began with sport At length long paine finds pleasure was but short As long as life remaind in Edwards brest Who was but I who had such friends at call His body was no sooner put in chest But well was he that could procure my fall His brother was mine enemy most of all Protector then whose vice did still abound From ill to worse till death did him confound He falsely fainde that I of counsell was To poyson him which thing I neuer meant But he could set thereon a face of brasse To bring to passe his lewde and false intent To such mischiefe this tyrants heart was bent To God ne man he neuer stood in awe For in his wrath he made his will a lawe Lord Hastings bloud for vengeaunce on him cryes And many moe that were to long to name But most of all and in most woefull wise I had good cause this wrtched man to blam● Before the world I suffered open shame Where people were as thicke as is the sand I pennance tooke with taper in my hand Each eye did stare and looke me in the face As I past hy the rumours on me ran But pacience then had lent me such a grace My quiet lookes were praisd of euery man The shamefast bloud brought me such collour than That thousands sayde that sawe my sober chéere It is great ruth to sée this woman heere But what preuayld the peoples pitie there This raging wolfe would spare no guiltles blood Oh wicked wombe that such ill fruit did beare Oh cursed earth that yéeldeth forth such mud The hell consume all things that did thée good The heauens shut their gates against thy spréete The world tread downe thy glory vnder féete I aske of God a vengeance on thy bones Thy stinking corps corrupts the aire I knowe Thy shamefull death no earthly wight bemones For in th● life thy workes were hated so That euery man did wis● thy ouerthroe Wherefore I may though parciall nowe I am Curse euery cause whereof thy body came Woe worth the man that fathered such a childe Woe worth the howre wherein thou wast begate Woe worth the brests that haue the world begylde To norish thée that all the worlde did hate Woe worth the Gods that gaue thée such a fate To liue so long that death deserude so oft Woe worth the chance that set thée vp aloft Woe worth the day the time the howre and all When subiects clapt the crowne on Richards head Woe worth the Lordes that sat in sumptuous hall To honour him that Princes blood so shead Woulde God he had bin boyld in scalding lead When he presumde in brothers seat to sit Whose wretched rage ruld all with wicked wit Yée Princes all and rulers euerechone In punishment beware of hatreds yre Before yée scourge take héede looke well thereon In wraths ill will if malice kindle fyre Your harts will burne in such a hote desyre That in those flames the smoke shall dim your sight Yée shall forget to ioyne your iustice right You should not iudge till things be well descernd Your charge is still to maintaine vpright lawes In conscience rules yée should be throwly lernd Where clemencie bids wrath and rashnes pause And further saith strike not without a cause And when yee smite doe it for iustice sake Then in good part ech man your scourge will take If that such zeale had moud this tyrants mind To make my plague a warning for the rest I had smal cause such fault in him to finde Such punishment is vsed for the best But by ill will and powre I was oprest He spoylde my goods and left me bare and poore And caused me to beg from dore to dore What fall was this to come from Princes fare To watch for crumes among the blind and lame When almes were delt I had an hungry share Because I knewe not how to aske for shame Till force and néede had brought me in such frame Than starue I must or learne to beg an almes With booke in hand to say S. Dauids Psalmes Where I was wont the golden chaines to weare A payre of beads about my necke was wound A linnen cloth was lapt about my heare A ragged gowne that trailed on the ground A dish that clapt and gaue a heauie sound A staying staffe and wallet there withall I bare about as witnesse of my fall The fall of leafe is nothing like the spring Ech eye beholdes the rising of the sunne All men admire the fauour of a King And from great states growne in disgrace they run Such sodaine claps ne wit nor will can shun For when the stoole is taken from our féete Full flat on floore the body falls in stréete I had no house wherein to hide my heade The open stréete my lodging was perforce Full oft I went all hungry to my bed My flesh consumde I looked like a corse

to come The skréeking Owle in silent night at window clapt his winges To threaten death or badde successe of sundry doubtful thinges No ioyfull sound was heard with eare no newes of happy yeares No pleasure to the pinched heart in prison strong appeares Admit the Lute with touch of hand a heauy dumpe doth shoe A cooling comfort Musicke brings to wretches wrapt in woe No mirth with mourning moue may matche for mischiefe measure lacks And care consumes the minde of man as fire melts Uirgin Waxe In silly Sell and seuerall place these two estates did sit Whose comming out did far surmount the compasse of our wit As long they spent their tickle time in teene and terrour great So oft God wot of matters harde in head did hammers beat Now hoping that the clouds would calm and storms would stand at stay Then looking when the Planets turnd their course another way But shaken ships in Seas doe sincke when surges rise aloft And vnder waues for want of aide weake vessels welter oft So that no hope of succour seemes to come when tempests rage Except the gods draw back the plagues and winde and weather swage The present panges and parlous thoughts that pearceth troubled minds Is knowne to none but such I say that lacke of fréedome findes A prisner beares a simple port most glad to please and ply As subiect to the kéepers becke and iellouse Gailors eye Now tracing out a weary walke now whisht and quiet stands Now down on knées now to the clouds lookes vp with stretched hands Now listning after happy newe● now nipt with sorrowes old Now sore abasht and brought in muse now merry stout and bold Now ripe and ready for to speake now dombe and dare not store Now fearfull of each sodaine sound and clap of euery dore Now bent to beare and suffer wrong now full reposde on right Now faine to fawne on féeble folke now setting all thinges light These passions still awakes their spryets that carefull captiues are Such smart they tast such bread they bite that feedes on loaues of car● Yea some are serude with change of meats yet touch they neare a dishe But sits like Tantalus in Hell and wants that most they wishe These twaine I troe were not so vsde but yet when best they sped On heauie morf●els mixte with mone their hungrie stomackes fed No day stoode free from Fortunes foyle no houre but nourisht feare No season serude to salue the sores of soking sorrowes there No drinke could coole the furie hote of thraldomes thirstie throte No pleasant verie nor dittie framde to dolors dolfull note No booke nor story might reuiue their drowping dead delite For through the thoughts of thirled hartes are pleasures banisht quite To slowth to sléepe and mirthlesse moodes their dompish daies enclinde As from the clue of worldly cares should threde of life vntwinde Dispiesd the night abhord the daye and hated houre of birth Thought scorne of foode and cleane forsooke the pleasures of the earth Would faine haue lost both speach breath and looke when hearts would burst Beleude they were in mothers wombe or else in cradell curst Though drousie dreed did death desire and griefe sought quicke dispatch There was no parting from the place till day discharge the watch Wee cannot pay our borrowed breath before th●appoynted houre The end of strife nor staie of state stands not in peoples power The God that guides the heauens high in secret doth beholde The fine and fléeting féeble course of earth and massie molde The heart may heaue the breast may bl●e the bodie sigh and swelt The face by open sinnes may show of priuy pa●hons felt But all the stormes haue little force to rid mans wretched dayes As by these 〈◊〉 playne I prooue through torments sundrie waies Well those from whom the Gods restraine the scope and vse of will Must bend the backe and bow the ioyntes to beare the burthen still And yet no toyle nor griefe so great but findes at length some ease There follows after swelling floodes a quiet calmie seas By meane of sute and labours long and gracious Prince indeede A swéeter soyle these Prisoners sound that better blood did breed But kept apart as Fortune shapt and so in silent shade As place and time did licence graunt a fresh complaint they made Of crooked chaunce and straunge extremes that so●dred faythfull hartes Whose sugred loue was euer mixt with ba●e and bitter smartes And neuer after like to méete nor set no eye nor vewe The one vppon the other Lord a matter much to rew Long in the broyle of this conflict and battle of the mind They past their time with bare beléefe of better happ behind And wearing out with wailings long their weary liues God wot And finding hauen chooked vp where passage should be got At ankor vnder watch and ward in tossed Barke they laye From whence there was no quiet meanes nor hope to scape awaie The Lady now for last farewell betooke her selfe to teares And of dispaire in pearsed brest a double portion beares Her hollow chéekes and daseled eyes declarde her death was néere And bad her kéepers to prepare both shrowding shéete and Beere For nature did denie her life her hart was taynted so That cankred thought should come ful soone and make an ende of woe Her colour changde her chéerfull lookes and countenaunce wanted spréete To ●allow ashes turnde the hue of beauties blossomes sweete And drery dulnesse had bespred the wearish bodie throw Ech vitall vaine did flat refuse to doe their dutie now The blood forsooke the wonted course and backward ganne retire And left the limmes as cold and swar●e as coles that wastes with fire The moysture taken from the trée the leaues droppe downe apace When sap dries vp and fayles the roote the braunches loose their grace Some bowes you see doe florish fayre and groes a goodly height And some by frost and cold ayre nipt and so are blasted streight As euery fruite and flowre in fielde to yéelde to sodaine claps So all that breathes with liuing soule are subiect to mishaps How should this dame desire to liue that hourely wore awaye Who would not shed some teares to sée this tender twig decay What stonie hart could suffer more and beare with euen hand The wearie wight of worldly woes and whiske or whipping wand And when she saw her hour● approche and death his dutie crau● And shee amid her chiefest prime must goe to gréedie graue Shée tooke of World a noble leaue and calling for a friend Who liueth yet and can report how she did make an end Shee sayd with loude and comely voyce O world I thee forsake I haue béene here a Pilgrime long and now my leaue I take Of all thy pompe and pleasures vaine that makes my sences blinde Whose glorie doth beginne with payne and ends with griefe of minde In dungeon déepe of dayntie thoughtes thou holdest euerie wight And féedes their foolish fancie still